


The Morning After

by captaindominoes



Series: The Marshal and the Mandalorian [1]
Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: M/M, Morning After, Post Season 2 Finale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:27:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28426242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captaindominoes/pseuds/captaindominoes
Summary: Cobb Vanth is surprised to see the Mandalorian again after so much time spent apart. He's even more surprised about what happens after.
Relationships: Din Djarin/Cobb Vanth
Series: The Marshal and the Mandalorian [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2091309
Comments: 18
Kudos: 153





	The Morning After

**Author's Note:**

> My first work for The Mandalorian! It's just a drabble, but I'm thinking about making it into a series.

There was a special kind of vulnerability that came with taking off the armor. 

Peeling away hard beskar to reveal soft skin, like a prawn out of its shell, exposed insecurities not so easily covered by fake bravado. The armor had a weight of its own, far past physical. It represented strength, honor, courage, passion; all the things its wearer embodied, even if the man underneath lacked those traits. The power that came with the armor was almost intoxicating. It wasn’t easily given up, not by a Mandalorian, and certainly not by a small-town Marshal projecting strength he didn’t feel in desperate hope of making a man into an army. 

Cobb Vanth had only owned the armor for a short period of time. Even so, it had become his in a way. The chest plate molded to his skin, cool even though layers of clothing on a hot day. The pauldrons and vambraces filled out his figure, bulking up the Marshal into a figure deserving of that title. Hours spent working with the jetpack almost made Cobb its master, though he couldn’t hope to match a true warrior in battle. Better to tuck that knowledge into his back pocket in case he ever needed a quick, _ohshit_ getaway. 

The helmet was a marvel of its own. Cobb had never known its significance, and the offense the Mandalorian had taken during their first meeting wasn’t surprising in hindsight. He was an imposter. He spat on their traditions with an act as simple as removing a piece of armor. Their culture, their way of life, and their outlook on the galaxy were all filtered through those layers of beskar. No, Cobb couldn’t find it in him to blame the Mandalorian, even long after he had gotten used to the vulnerability of the armor’s loss.

It was early morning on Tatooine, and already hot enough to burn the nipple hair off a sweaty-chested moisture farmer. Like most residents of the dustball on which he currently resided, Cobb didn’t go outside if he didn’t have to. Today, he didn’t plan on stepping past the threshold of his tiny hut irrespective of weather, considering what the winds had swept into town just a few hours prior.   
  
Last night had brought plenty of surprises. As fun as it had been to cast aside all of his fears and bed one of the fiercest warriors in the galaxy, now that the suns were up, Cobb had to face reality again. 

The cracked mirror in his tiny refresher revealed just how wrecked he was. Cobb’s silver-gray hair stuck up in all directions, and even a few hasty swipes of his fingers hardly dampened it. A soft chuckle left Cobb as his fingers trailed down, brushing tiny, round bruises all along his neck and bare chest, before his hand came to rest at his side. Matching marks circled his belly-button and disappeared below the waistband of his loose trousers. 

He looked like a mess, and yet Cobb was giddy, riding a hormone-induced high like he hadn’t felt since he was a young man and he decided to hookup with a hot young bounty hunter in the back room of an arms dealer’s shop deep in Hutt territory. Of all the bad decisions Cobb had made in his life, at least he didn’t regret this one afterwards like he usually did. And he hadn’t been fucked with his face inches from a dozen thermal detonators. As much as that had added to the experience, he wasn’t eager to repeat it. 

Cobb heard the Mandalorian rouse before he saw him. He made no move to step away from the ‘fresher’s mirror. Beskar really was beautiful in this early-morning golden light. It bounced off Mando’s helmet, flashing and reflecting the warm twin suns. What Cobb wouldn’t give to wake up to that sight every morning. 

Even more beautiful was the rest of Mando’s body. Unlike Cobb, he had bothered to dress again, thought Cobb didn’t mind. He knew exactly what that gorgeous body looked like underneath all that armor. Mando had shown him that vulnerability the night before. Why, Cobb couldn’t hope to guess, but he treasured it all the same. 

“Mando.” Cobb met the gaze of Mando’s black visor in the mirror’s reflection. “You staying for breakfast?” 

Mando’s silence was defeaning in the small room. Cobb knew by now that he would speak when he was ready. The creak of his armor broke the small amount of tension between them when Mando stepped forward. Cobb’s breath hitched as gloved hands settled on his waist, gently squeezing and reassuring him. 

“If you’ll have me.” 

“‘Course I will, what kind of question—” A small smile broke over Cobb’s face, and he leaned back into that cool beskar as arms came to wrap around him securely. “Stay, Mando. I want you to.” 

A quiet breath, barely audible enough to be picked up by Mando’s vocal processor, sounded next to Cobb’s ear. He imagined how nice it would be to feel that puff of air on his skin, followed by soft lips, and those calloused, talented hands elsewhere on his body. Intimacy didn’t seem to be Mando’s thing, and it wasn’t Cobb’s either, but they had both made exceptions that night. Cobb had no regrets. He sensed Mando didn’t either by the way Cobb was pulled more securely against that firm chest and held like he was something to be admired. 

“Din. That’s my name.” 

Cobb closed his eyes and exhaled, reveling in the little moment they had carved out for themselves despite everything they had been through. The time between when they had said their goodbyes and when Mando had shown up on Cobb’s doorstep, helmet metaphorically held in his hands, was negligible. The understanding that passed between them far surpassed any discomfort or awkwardness that would usually accompany a new relationship. This was vulnerable, and it was just right for them. Cobb wouldn’t let go of it as long as Mando kept holding on with equal desperation. 

“Stay with me, Din.” 

And so he did. 

**Author's Note:**

> Writing Tumblr: @captaindominoes for TCW/prequel stuff, @marshallvanth for The Mandalorian/OT stuff
> 
> Also, for reference, I like to imagine the handsome bounty hunter Cobb fucked was Boba Fett.


End file.
